#aemond targayen imagine

[justanoasisimagines]

Jealous Headcanon's

Requests are open! Credit to @cafekitsune for the divider and banner

❀Aemond is a very intelligent and patient individual. He prefers to bide his time, to analyze, to prepare. Aemond does not make rash decisions. However, when he feels jealous, Aemond struggles to focus. ❀He observes the Lord approach you while attending his Father's nameday. As always, you are polite and courteous as you exchange pleasantries, but it's obvious the Lord has more than a conversation on his mind. ❀Aemond doesn't react immediately. Keeping an eye on the pair of you while going through the motions of court. He maintains an eye on your body language searching for any indication you're uncomfortable. He knows you well, sometimes too well. ❀Aemond often feels in control yet when jealously burns in his stomach he feels anything but. Visions of mountain Vghar and burning the Lord to a crisp burn through his mind.. Perhaps he could engage in a battle instead; to tear him apart one piece at a time. ❀When Aemond finally does strike it's like a game of chess. Navigating the room never allowing you out of sight. Knowing if the Lord glances up, his gaze would appear on him. Aemond's toying with the Lord and he doesn't even know it.

❀Aemond doesn't acknowledge the Lord. He greets you instead. Regarding you as his wife. Aemond displays affection towards you, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, before expressing pleasantries to the Lord.

❀Aemond's presence is terrifying as it is powerful, so the Lord makes himself scarce. You look up at Aemond knowing exactly what he's done. While you appreciate how reserved your husband is, it's thrilling to see him behave out of character.

[tenseoyong]

Hi can you do Aemond x betrothed reader at the dinner scene he’s jealous of jace and reader dancing?

Aemond would scarcely admit he hadn’t expected to become so quickly enamored by his sweet tongued, kind-eyed, gentle handed betrothal. Honestly speaking, Aemond had assumed his arranged marriage would follow a similar pattern as his parents’ and siblings’—loveless and constant avoidance—he was sure that the lovely Lady that had arrived at court would have little interest in the Scarred Prince beyond the gain of gold and the title of Princess.

Yet, Aemond was surprised to find a less than timid woman, one who did not shy away from his cold gaze, nor did she pity or fear his childhood maiming.

Yes, the Prince had grown rather fond of the unusual Lady. Often Aemond spend hours with her, hidden from prying eyes by the many shelves of books of the Keep’s library.

She listened to him attentively—not just keeping up appearances of a doting and obedient wife-to-be—no, she actually enjoyed Aemond’s company; hanging off his every word as he recounted his daily training, or when he told of the history of dragons, even dared to attempt to teach her a word or two in High Valyrian. In turn, she spun tales of her home, how her brothers bickered as children, and how she feared riding a horse just as one would fear facing a dragon.

Aemond would grow to love his Lady Wife—that much he was sure of—and he had dared to hope that she would return that love ten fold.

She had all but extinguished the dragon’s fire that lived in him.

Yet, the moment his darling nephew, Jacaerys, had stepped forward—folllowing his sweet sister Heleana’s speech of marital neglect—and requested she accompany him in dance, Aemond’s mind filled with vivid images of Jacaerys burned to a crisp, curtesy of Vhagar’s breath.

To see her, in the arms of his bastard nephew as she politely accepted his dance proposal, turned his stomach to stone.

Aemond believes he knew true anger. He’d spent a good portion of his childhood angry—angry at his father, and his nephews, and at his dragon-less status. Though, as violet eyes watched his Lady and Jacaerys is dance, Aemond knew then he’d never truly experienced anger—until this moment.

It burned inside him hotter than dragon’s fire, boiling his blood and scalding his heart.

And as his nephew spun his betrothed about the empty corner of the room, Aemond could bare to witness it no more.

The whole room came to a screeching halt as Aemond slammed his fist into the table as he rose to stand tall, and mockingly held his cup in the air, “I’d like to toast to my nephews—Jace, Luke…Joffrey—each of them handsome, wise, brave…” He paused, turning to stare directly at the hand Jace had placed to the small of his Lady’s back. “And Strong.”

Not to give up the game, Jace didn’t release his partner, only twirling the pair until Jace was between his uncle and his intended before demanding, “I dare you to say that again!”

“Why?” Aemond tsked, rounding the table and taking several calculated steps towards the stationary duo. “T’was only a compliment—I would extend my toast to my beloved betrothed, I shall pray to the Gods that they make our sons as Strong as their cousins.”

The fury was evident enough on young Jace’s face, all while the quiet satisfaction of getting under his skin flooded Aemond’s.

Though, the satisfaction didn’t last nearly as long as he’d hoped—for as soon as Jacaerys fixed Aemond with a mischievous look and devious smile, Jace reestablished his hold on his uncle’s bride-to-be, and taunted, “If only there were such a way to ensure your sons’ strength, perhaps I’ll be of some help, if the Lady wouldn’t mind me—“

All at once, Aemond closed what little space remained between him and the dancing pair, and curled his fingers into his nephew’s neck like a claw, snatching the younger boy up much like a kitten at its scruff, “You’ll remove your hands from my Wife.”

“You misspoke, Uncle.” Jacaerys smirked, ignoring Aemond’s seething rage. “The Lady is not yet your wife, is she? I believe that gives her leave to do as she pleases, while she can.”

“I care not for the beliefs of a bastard,” Aemond’s words dripped with venom. “She is to be my bride—since you are so keen on pretending to be of your status—you should be aware that you are greatly overstepping.”

Jacaerys only cocked an eyebrow—a silent challenge—before his fingers curled into your side and what little room between your bodies had been erased, “Oh? Have I overstepped—“

“You will remove your hand,” Aemond was through playing this game, he did break the eye contact he held with his nephew, yet he could still see the obvious annoyance and displeasure growing on your sweet face. Aemond’s hand fluttered above the dagger strapped at his hip. “Or I shall remove it for you.”

The threat lingered in the air momentarily before, much to anyone’s surprise, the Lady squirmed out of Jacaerys’ hold and took her rightful place at Aemond’s right and placed a gentle on Aemond’s tensed arm.

“My Love,” She all but cooed at the furious dragon she would soon claim as a husband. “Let us not ruin the single night your father has requested with his family—I am unharmed and unbothered—let us not have further bloodshed between kin.”

Aemond won’t not soon let go of his hatred for his bastard nephews, but as his Lady-to-be stood by his side and looked upon him with such care and affection Aemond would afford her this kindness.

He released his blade, and his grip on Jacaerys’ neck—though he paused a moment to admire the half-moon shaped nail marks he’d left in his stead—before collecting his betrothed and whisking them both from the disastrous dinner, desiring nothing more than to be hidden away with his Lady love where they belonged.

Soon after, as the servant folks spread tales of the exciting night—a song would emerge—that of a Lady, who had managed to tame the dragon.

[masterlist]

@moonchildrenandflowercrowns

[eydi-andrius]

I MEAN HEAR ME OUT -

Just imagine Aemond being so soft, gentle and kind towards you. Then, one day, your loved ones betrayed you. It left you hurt, in pain and scarred. He, who did not take kindly towards the disrespect bestowed your way, convinced you to fight back and take revenge. Little did you know that in his mind, once you agree, he will burn down to ashes those who hurt you. He is ready to dance with you, the rumba of death, atop flesh and bones. His crown made from gold and terror, while yours were polished, cleaned from blood and tears of the orphaned. You will shed no tears ever again from betrayal. He will make sure of that.

[una-hopeless-romantic1118]

ACT I - CHAPTER 1 ⋆.˚ ☾.˚of wolf's blood and dragon's wrath — Aemond Targaryen⋆.˚ ☾.˚

a/n: thought I would release this here :p still going to be releasing in ao3

summary, playlist, and character aesthetics

(p.s. @saturnssrings ik u requested i post the story here. so sorry I haven't been active on here since I was already doubtful the story wouldn't attract ppl, but here it is if you are still interested)

pls let me know in the comments if you would like to be added to a taglist :)

WARNINGS: not proofread, non-canon aemond bc both show!aemond and book!aemond suck, cursing, mention of blood, pathetic male yearning, graphic depictions of violence, rlly bad Northern accent dialogue

.˚⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚⋆.˚

.˚⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚⋆.˚

Aiana attempted to simmer down the already tense air between the Princes, her bestest of friends. Her father called it admirable, but advised strongly against it, for reasons he does not tell her.

But of course she knew the Velaryon boys were bastard-borns; she too noticed and questioned it herself, their physical traits so distinct from Targaryen likeness. And since no one dared speak about it to her, she asked about it no longer. What made her different to the gossiping maids however, was that she was still intent in maintaining her friendship with them. She did not see the scandal the whole court seemed to grimace on about. Their characters were respectful and kind. They were her Princes, and she respected them no differently than she respected the Targaryens. And most especially if their mother, the Princess Rhaenyra, was ever so caring to her, and their father, Ser Harwin Strong, a man her Father thought suited honor well.

Aiana thought Aemond the loveliest, sweetest of all. Of course, next to Helaena. He was always gentle-mannered in everything he did with her, in teaching small phrases and words of his familial language and in comforting her when Aegon would insult her Northern habits and her adoration for her direwolf pups. 

But as friends do, they always maintained a consistency of tender love with playfulness and mischief, as one or the other always initiated in playing chase. They shared secrets and gossip they managed to grasp from whispers, and giggles as they hid under tables and dared one another to wrap a hand around a victim’s ankle to startle them. 

But their friendship was structured firmly with their adoration for one another—an understanding of each other to an extent no one else had the privilege of seeing. 

Aiana was the second born child to Rickon Stark, but the Gods already gifted the family a first born son called Cregan Stark, so right when she entered the world, she had given the Northerners another reason to find relief in the existence of her brother. She would not be treated with the utmost respect like a highborn Lord like Cregan was, only adoration, that a little she-wolf so gentle and blissful was born to during the harshest of winters.

There is no mistake that her parents still expected good judgment from her and to take her position as a proper lady seriously, but her fate was still as clear as day: she wasn’t meant for much.

Aemond was half-brother to the Princess Rhaenyra, and the second son to Queen Alicent. This line of available heirs left Aemond in the dust, but he too had a lot to prove to fulfill his title as a Targaryen prince.

They were observers, the pair of them. They were forced in the back to watch their older siblings, the priorities to everyone. But Aiana did not seek the praises Cregan would receive. All Aiana wanted was to be taken seriously, not be portrayed as a flimsy little thing, Cregan's little sister and the mighty Lord Rickon's darling daughter.

Aemond wished for the same, but it was never easy. Soon enough, he expected the whole world to pay for it.

The night of the tragedy was the first time she learned a valuable lesson. Dragons belonged to the skies and the stars, and wolves kept their patted paws in the ground.

She hated that she woke to the smallest of sounds, but to the sound of the mighty Vhagar growling outside the castle walls, she had to get out from her sweet slumber to watch in fascination.

Though distances in the sky away from her small window, Aiana squinted with all her effort at the figure atop the dragon. A new rider already? She was eager to discover who the dragon had chosen at this hour of late, and this early on, considering her former rider had just been sent to rest at sea.

The dragon neared to land, and the rider was still too small to see compared to her size. But the distinct, faint blonde hair hit Aiana like a revelation. Despite her tired state, the overwhelment from anticipation and eagerness to meet her good friend had aroused her completely awake as if it was the new day already. She quickly slipped into her shoes.

She had not a care in the realm whether her running in the empty halls were disrupting others from their own slumber; in fact, if they did wake, she would be glad in having more people celebrate the young Prince. 

Aiana was looking through every possible window to find where the Prince had landed, and upon the main hall of the Velaryon castle, she was able to arrive exactly as the new dragon rider did, at the area behind where the wake was held for the late Princess Laena.

She had sped past her fur coat, only dressed in her favorite blue sleep dress in the late hour. And now she was glad to at least have her shoes on so at least her feet were not cold and dirty.

The young Stark wolf rushed out to the back of the castle and sped down the stairs.

“Aemond!” She wheezed out as she watched the Prince jump out of the dragon’s saddle and slide down her wing, though maintaining a cautious distance and volume so as not to make the warrior dragon feel threatened.

She tried again louder but breathlessly, this time finally getting his attention.

He squinted in the dark. Aiana took another step forward the nearest torch, and Aemond broke out into a wide, relieved grin. “Aiana?” His breath was heavy, evident in the white air that expelled from his mouth. His voice alone let Aiana know he was ecstatic. “You saw?”

She nodded frantically. “It woke me from my slumber, but I did not mind. And surely not when it was you had claimed her. Well done, Aemond!” She gushed.

“Why must you dwell in the dark? Wouldn’t you like to come closer?”

“I would, yes.” She responded as she marveled at the dragon. “That is the very reason I came down.”

“Well, then, come closer,” he ushered her with his hand, an air of confidence Aiana chuckled at. 

“I would rather not. I don’t want to make her feel threatened.”

“That is nonsense, Aiana,” he let out a laugh. “I've bonded with her. She knows my heart. I want you to meet her.”

Aiana giggled to herself at how quickly Aemond is to boast his new dragon. She thought it fair, as he had waited for years, growing desperate at times enough to visit the Dragonpit unaccompanied. That is what she and the Queen Mother shared; the concern for Aemond and his tireless determination to pursue a dragon that he would place himself in such dangerous situations.

She approached under the light of the night sky, watching the massive dragon in front of her. 

Aemond laughs at her timidity. He grabs for her arm and pulls her into the light of Vhagar’s view closer.

“Aemond!” She scolded him under her breath. Her hand was naturally trembling when he slowly led her hand against Vhagar’s head, which lowered for Aiana. She looked at him in disbelief.

The gesture eased her anxiety, and despite the rough, uncomfortable feel of her scales, and the focus of her amber eyes on her, Aiana found it flattering that a creature so fearsome could find it to be sweet tempered with her. 

“Your hands are cold, Aiana.” Aemond’s hand squeezed hers. If she hadn’t peeled her eyes away from the dragon to look at him, she would have never thought the Prince’s concern was laced with amusement. “Where is your coat?”

“Do not insult me! I’m cold, but I’ll survive." Then, she giggled. "Wolves are made to adapt to whatever cruel measures one sets for us." She mocked in her Father's voice.

Aemond was quick to slip out from his coat despite. Aiana watched with a complexed but amused expression. “But you will be cold.”

“I will not,” he covers her with his cloak and ties the strings for her, his cold fingers confident and free of shaking, but they occasionally brush against her chin and neck. “I am of fire, and with a dragon I can surely prove it now.” Indeed, the smell of the dragon from his cloak —which was a strong mix of a musky and ashy smell— was quick to fill her nostrils. 

“Well, you certainly smell like one too.” She smirked, to which Aemond mimicked, taunting her high-pitched voice. 

She wrapped the thick clothing further around her, grinning at her friend. “She is marvelous, Aemond. Well done.” 

Aemond only tilted his chin up. “She will surely silence my nephews. Humble them, even.”

Aiana tried to ignore the unusual chills that crept up on her skin. She debates whether to argue back, but it would not be an argument of logic, only bias. While she cared for the Velaryon brothers, Aiana was beginning to surpass their immature, unacceptable behavior because of her pity for their legitimacy and the shame the people enforce on them that they must bear for the rest of their lives. She would defend Aemond against them when the time called for it, but she limited and chose her words in a careful manner that her defenses were small and useless.

But like her Father always tells her, “find a voice of your own,” and despite the hope that his encouragement would encourage her heart, he couldn't help but add, “but there are sure consequences to the use of it.”

Combing her hair with his bear-like hands, he would explain, “you’re a wolf of the North, little jewel. I’m raisin’ you to have judgments of your own, but I can’t promise the rest of the realm will smile down at you. They’ll frown upon you, and then at me, gossiping behind our backs to criticize my ways. You’re a little girl, who will surely grow into a woman whose single hair on her arm wouldn't raise in fear at the harshest criticism or curse. Aye, the woman you will be, so stiff against insults from lousy men—you’ll remain standing, upright, like a wolf against the strong winter winds.  

“I want you to know you have a valuable place in this world, sweetling. If you say or believe, I trust that you’ll know to think on it first with that brain of yours. And to tell the truth as it is. Don’t go and sugarcoat to coax people. A wolf’s eyes and ears are keen in observin’ their surroundings, and we can gather a lot of the world even in our silence. Especially in our silence. It’s what we decide to do with ‘em that matters, if we do our part in tellin’ the truth. Honesty inspires honor, and honor, to justice.”

How heavy the words were to a small heart like hers. Guilt plagued her quickly.

Aiana knew Aemond’s pain all too well. She too longed to prove herself worthy. To Aemond, it required a dragon for the ridiculing to stop. To Aiana, it required a male anatomy to be a son for her mother to love her. She was a failure from the beginning, no matter how hard she mirrored her brothers’ mannerisms or jests, she could be nothing like them.  

Her circumstance, though impossible to treat, allowed her to sympathize with another with a similar experience.

In this moment, Aemond needed her honesty. Her defense. Her Stark voice.

She reached for him and clung on to him in an embrace.

“How relieved I am that this pressure for a dragon on your shoulders has sloughed off,” she said against his shoulder. “It has been a lot on you, and while I care deeply for the Velaryon brothers, I tried my hardest to convince mine mind that their mistreatment of you was just playful. But I know what playful is, and it was never funny to me seeing you after another series of their jesting. I care about you as your friend and forever comrade in this cruel world. I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t care for your feelings.”

Aemond has been still since Aiana had practically crashed herself onto him. Aiana would hate to let go, as she never feels satisfied if the hug was not returned, but waiting for it to be returned in this way is not only awkward— it might also make the Prince feel restrained from his own will.

She lets go to look at Vhagar again, though his eyes were heavy on her.

She began to feel the pressure of them and she began twirling the strings of his cloak, muttering comments about her scales, her growling, anything, until-

“You think you must apologize?” He muttered incredulously. 

Aiana frowned. She forced herself to face him and was immediately alarmed. “Why do you look nauseated? Are you alright?”

The young Prince was standing awkwardly— uncomfortably—beside her. His eyebrows were furrowed as he looked at her, his breaths shallow and audible. He was in utter disbelief.

She thought she was right, that he was hurting through the newfound anger. “I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, Aemond. I thought it best to be hones-”

“ No, Aiana.” He responded firmly. “It boggles mine own mind how you, out of all of them, are the one to even think about apologizing.” His tone portrays correctly his disbelief. “Trust me, you have done no wrong. You are in no place to apologize. Everyone pities those bastards.”

Aiana flinched at his anger. She hoped to revert it. “That is an offensive word, Aemond.”

He only smirks. “Their whole beings are an offense to our line.”

“Aemes-”

His attention was back on Vhagar, and there is no doubt somewhere in his mind he is brewing for his revenge. Aiana twirled the strings of the cloak as she observed him, and for the first time, Aiana feared Aemond.  

The Aemond of yesterday withered away from insults, where behind closed doors he only then expresses disappointment in himself. The Aemond of now clenches his jaw, plotting, his fingers flexing, and his eyes reflecting the fire from the standing torches that is no doubt mirroring his brutal intentions. This was the Aemond she pitied, the one she would gladly comfort. Now she faces a dark soul fuming with such unfamiliar anger, Aiana could only look down from it.

She had to be honest with him. 

Aiana shifted her weight on one leg uncomfortably, and Aemond snaps free from his thoughts. “Would you like to?” He motioned to Vhagar. “I know you’d like to.”

She did. Aiana shook her head, a look of dread on her face at the thought of riding with him in this drunken state. “I’m not dressed for it.” She lies so easily for a Stark. “And in this late hour?”

Aemond laughed. “Oh, now you’re scared? You made me swear upon knifepoint you’d be the first person I take for a ride on my dragon. Don't you remember?” 

She recalls, but she cannot bear to go about the night pretending to be daft to the Prince’s new guise. Even if Aemond promised he feels no hatred for her, Aiana still felt like she might offend him for walking one foot alongside him, while the other accompanied the Velaryon boys. She does not want to side with either if it would betray the other.

But it didn’t have to be a feud, if each side would just get along. They were family. It should not have to be a challenge.

“I do not mind, Aiana.” Aemond reminded. “Vhagar wouldn’t either. I’ll keep you safe, I promise. We won’t go as high.”

“It’s late, my Prince.” She reasoned, her voice weak. “Tomorrow, when the sky is brighter, mayhaps?”

Tomorrow, mayhaps, when he is much sober from this wrath and arrogance.

“Then it’s settled.” He offered her his hand. “Let me walk you to your chambers.” 

Aiana handed him her hand. Expecting Aemond to take the lead, he instead pulls her in a hug that alarmed the young girl.

“You are my one and only true friend.” She felt him sigh into her shoulder.

She was just a few inches taller, so Aiana rested her cheek on top of the Prince's head. Her doubts still linger, but she feels for Aemond. “It is an honor,” she sniffled, finding relief that she can recognize her friend again.

Then she tugged the end of his blonde hair. “Pretty girl.”

He scowls at her while massaging his scalp. Not a minute spared he returned the action by twirling first her black hair in his fingers, and then tugging harshly down at it. “You’ve got a tangle in your hair, wolf.” He spat back.

“Compared to yours,” she swatted his finger away, “my hair is better kept. Yours is always frizzed and wild.”

“As if yours are never sticking out of place like a witch’s.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Take a bath.”

“You first.”

They left Vhagar to rest again, and she was quick to fall back to sleep with a low growl of pleasure.

Aiana, too, relaxed. Her old companion is back as she lures him away from the source of his arrogance.

“How was it then?” She sniffled from the cold. “The first flight. Must be as thrilling as it looks.”

“It is even better,” Aemond sighs blissfully. 

“Must have been terrifying, too. Was it not?” 

Aemond scoffs. “Hardly.”

Aiana only rolls her eyes, unconvinced. “There is no point in lying. Even I remember the Princess Helaena struggling to maintain a perfect balance sitting atop such a creature. Even your drunk of a brother.”

“Well, that is simply that: Aegon is a drunk. He staggers about as he loses his senses to the wine.” He pauses, hesitating. “But if I admit to it, will you tel-”

“I swear, Aemond. I will not tell.” She faced him. “Your secrets are safe, for however long you’d like. I won’t mutter any of them out even if Aegon tries to weasel his way to one. But you needn’t lie about them, either. I can read you well.”

Aemond’s whole system flooded with relief. “Then, it was a struggle to get on. But I held on tight.” It was a challenge to confess, as if being humble was a sin, and after he is searching in her face for any twitch from the restraint to laugh.

He found none, but a smile of absolute sympathy. 

“Must have been,” she looked back at Vhagar. “She’s massive. Surely, however, soon you’ll be able to ride her like it is second nature.”

She spoke with such gracefulness and kindness, it was enough to make Aemond’s heart full to burst. He is so grateful for her. So forever in her debt. His forever comrade in this cruel world.

Aemond in his late nights awake often dreamt of becoming a fearsome dragonrider, sword strapped into his waist belt, riding into battle against those who have taken advantage of Aiana and her kindness. Pathetic as his fantasies may be, the fantasies along with Aiana’s faith in him have given Aemond enough encouragement to claim his right to a dragon. Now, he rides the largest in the world.

Aiana introduced him to a friendship and kindness that he could not find in his own family. How does she expect him to accept that she is to move back to the other end of Westeros? Aemond felt like a helpless child again. 

They see the underground passageway from their distance, and all the while they walked and talked of bonding with dragons, the subject of her direwolves came up.

“They’re growing faster than I expected. Of course, my Father warned me. Cregan too, but to reflect on their tiny yapping and their fragile bodies, and remember now they’re big enough to stand on their hind feet and feed off my plate at the dinner table—I don’t think I can bear it. But, at the same time, it’s a joy to tend to them.”

“Do you miss them?” Aemond asked, and Aiana hugged herself.

“With every fiber of my being,” she thought sadly to herself. “My time away only makes me worry for them. Silly as it may sound, they are both my friends and children. It's rather lonely at home being the only girl.”

It would sure make someone scowl in snicker at the thought. 2 pups who were by all means always covered in mud, and whenever they would pounce on her, Aiana would get scolded for letting them dirty her finest dresses. Their howls could never be silenced, because they are happy and filled with pride and life. They were hounds who always woke everyone in the hall with their pawing of Aiana’s door in the early mornings, eager to be taken for their walks.

It was Ivory and Luna—it was the 2 of them, as her sworn and loyal protectors forever. Her girls.

Aemond sees the glimmer in Aiana’s eyes, lost in her thoughts. It was moments like these between them that Aemond liked to observe. He often observed things he would rather not, but of his own accord he would gladly study a beauty such as Aiana. He would even gladly argue with a thousand men who would say her shining eyes simply reflected the moon’s kind and gentle light. He knew it was more than that. It reflected her own benevolent heart that lives for those around her, deserving or not.

Aemond thought it deserving she was nicknamed the Northern Star. Everyone likes looking at pretty things, and they’re twice as desirable if they are completely out of reach. 

Aiana was a star alright, unattainable and untouchable even if she was down on this Earth walking amongst commoners and sinners and cowards. Southerners thought Northerners as filthy brutes who were below them. But here she was, Aiana, a beauty Southerners can’t help but eye for. Aemond is no different, and as much as it disappoints him to admit it, his nephews share the same observation.

But Aiana was much more than a beauty. She was indeed a spectacle in the sky that gives purpose to those who wish upon it, a sense of direction to the lost and hope to the desperate. 

Only now does Aemond allow himself to be the lost, desperate boy, if it meant being lost and desperate for Aiana. 

“What’s wrong?”

Aemond’s nose twitched, alert. “Nothing.”

“You stare quite a lot at motionless things.” Aiana looked off to her side, at the beach. “I suppose the beach is quite lovely at night. It’s calm. I’ve never been to many beaches, you know, as you can assume there are none in Winterfell. Just the same, boring lakes that freeze and melt away as the seasons pass.”

Aemond swallowed hard. “Do you plan on returning to Winterfell, then?” His voice came out hoarse. He had overheard Ser Criston and his mother discuss Lord Rickon’s plan to return soon and hoped it to be false. 

It was a question that has been plaguing his mind and soul lately. Even though he wished Winterfell was a place Aiana hated and despised as much as he did King’s Landing, her solemn “yes,” plunged into his heart brutally.

Aiana was quick enough to pick up his sagging shoulders. “Winterfell is my home, Aemond,” she shook him. “Of course I must return.”

“But what of your studies with Septa Marinah?” was his first attempt.

“I have my own Septa at home, Septa Elayne.”

“But Septa Marinah is one of the best. She’s young and patient and kind-”

“Aemond-”

“And what of Lord Stark and Cregan? They must uphold their duties here.” 

“My father is just an old friend of the King. He has no duties expected of him here except to accompany your father in his hunts and wine tasting. We are temporary invited guests from the North, and so we must return home, sooner than later. I know our fathers and your uncle have bonded over hunting,” she gave him a tight lipped smile, “but this isn’t my home, Aemond. I hate the sun’s intensity here. I wish to go home.”

But Winterfell is a sad, gray place, he wanted to reason. What about the flowers you enjoy so much you’ve made it a habit to collect them and make everyone flower crowns? What sign of life can you find in the desolate North?

He kicked the sand, frowning. “It snows here, too...”

“We’ll still see one another as we always have all throughout our lives,” she added as they entered the cave. “Every name day and every wedding, we shall come back. It’ll be an offense to the King, your father, if we don’t.”

Aemond let out a small grunt as he stared at his own two feet, too pained to look at her. He already foresees his future days. He might as well resort to living in the skies, among the clouds, if he can’t walk the land without the Northern Star by his side.

“Can’t you just ask for your direwolves to be sent here?”

Aiana chuckled. “Aemond–”

“It’s him!” A voice squeaked from out of the quiet. “And the Lady Stark’s with him!”

Aiana noticed a look of betrayal in Baela and she returned a puzzled one. Soon followed Jacaerys, Lucerys, and her little sister, Rhaena. 

Feeling the sudden, overwhelming heat of the 5 young dragons around her, practically fuming fire from their nostrils, Aiana slipped out from Aemond’s cloak. “Have we done something wrong?”

.˚⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚⋆ .˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚ ⋆.˚❆⚔.˚⋆.˚

[the-desilittle-bird]

Author's Note- Sorry for late update but exams got me busy.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

The White Dragon

I Have Seen (Chapter 2)

Summary- Proposal of marriage between Aerea and Cregan has been spelled out and a friendly sparring follows

Tag List- @eliseline, @little-moonbeam-666, @blackhoodlea, @omgsuperstarg, @shopping, @lizlovecraft, @dayane, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26-blog, @all-things-fandomstuck, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @morganastrucker, @shrexy, @helloitsshitzulover, @daringboba, @minaxcarter, @b-tchymoon, @stargaryenx, @hukio, @targaryenmoony, @moon-light1415, @eudximoniakr, @themaze13, @candypurplebutterfly, @5moremin, @yariany02, @issybee0611, @beefbaby25, @shine101, @hopebaker, @andlizeth, @hyacinthus007, @lightdragonrayne, @prettykinkysoul, @mcam623, @marvelescvpe, @severewobblerlightdragon, @deltamoon14, @let-love-bleeds-red, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad, @ultrav0lence, @random-shit-i-like-2

If anybody want their names to be added or removed from the tag list, then leave a comment.

Warnings- Mentions of Arranged Marriage, Westrosi Things, Fencing.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

"I have seen you and Princess engage in conversation at the day of the feast, my lord," Otto said, his eyes watching the wolf lord who sat in front of him. Alicent sat next to her father, watching Cregan with cautious eyes.

"I would like to assure you that it was nothing related to any betrothal," Cregan replied, his mind trying to find a way out of this increasingly awkward conversation. "We have been made aware of that, my lord."

Cregan was suddenly realizing the intentions of the Hightower Lord and the Queen as to why they pressured Cregan into thinking at the first place. Cregan was, after all, the Lord of a Great House of the Seven Kingdoms and the Targaryens were on the verge of a war between two proportions of the dragons.

"Is it what the princess desires?" Cregan asked, watching with interest as Otto looked on the verge of losing his patience. "The princess has approved of the betrothal, if you approve of it, my lord," Alicent said, her fingers playing with the skirt of her gown.

"Who else has been deemed worthy of the hand of Princess Aerea?" The Wolf Lord queried, leaning in. "Lord Baratheon and..." Otto hesitated to say the name of his second grandson, as he was aware of the disgust people felt towards the incestuous marriages in the Targaryen House.

"And, my lord?" Cregan toyed, sadisticaly, enjoying the look on the Lord's face. "And my son, my lord. Aemond Targaryen," Alicent said, making Cregan nod, humming as his mind processed and formulated a plan.

"May I speak to princess beforehand? If you have no offense, My Queen," Cregan asked, his eyes trained at the green queen. Alicent glanced at his father before looking at Cregan, giving him a small nod.

"You will find her in the training grounds, my lord," Alicent informed Cregan who nodded his gratitude before departing. His shoulders squared as he walked straight towards the training grounds.

Usually filled with dozens of guards and young lords and knights, stood empty in front of Cregan's stormy eyes except for two guards guarding the entrance. "I wish to see the princess. On queen's order."

The guards spared a look before nodding, letting the Wolf Lord walk in. The ground was completely silent except for the sound of a steady breathing. The voice of an arrow hitting something solid echoed through the large span of earth's surface.

Princess Aerea stood a few feet away from the wooden target. Three arrows already attached to the target; two around the bullseye and one right on it. Her posture remained firm as she calculated another arrow's path through the air.

She wore a black leather tunic she usually wore for dragon riding. A red dragon stitched on its back. Aerea paired the tunic with black pants, and dark brown boots. Her silver hair firmly set in a bun, keeping the strands away from her face.

Her hands let the arrow go skillfully. Time slowed down as Cregan watched the arrow flew through the air and split the arrow on the bullseye into half. Cregan smirked, slowly raising his hand to clap.

Aerea turned around, surprised. Her violet eyes widened as she found the wolf lord clapping. A light shade of red flushed her face as she looked around with a shy smile. Her fingers caressed the bow to comfort herself.

"Lord Stark," she nodded with a smile. "Princess Aerea, your skills are amazing," Cregan gestured to the target, letting his face soften. "Thank you, my lord. This is all due to my uncle Daemon," Aerea said, her eyes watched as the lord moved closer, yet keeping an appropriate distance.

"I see, he has taught you well, my princess," Cregan commented before turning to face the princess of the realm. "I am here to address an important topic," he continued, his voice firm and unwavering. His hands clasped behind his back, giving him a regal posture.

"I suppose my mother and grandsire has spoken to about..." Aerea left the sentence incomplete, instead, deciding to fiddle with the string of her special bow.

Cregan nodded, his eyes moving to the sword hanging around her waist. "Do you wield sword?" Cregan asked, amused. "Yes, my lord," Aerea smirked, her fingers reached for the dragon shaped pommel. "Would you mind?" He continued to ask, walking casually to a sword lying in the corner.

"I must admit, I am terrifically fantastic, my lord. I hope you don't have a fragile ego," Aerea mocked, unsheathing her sword and letting her body and mind take over, as her uncle had told her. "Then it would be interesting."

Cregan studied the lady before striking first, his movement rough yet fast; but Aerea was even faster. With her elegant moves and quick mind, she dodged every attack landed by the lord, coming up with hers when an opportunity arisen.

"Why did you agree to our betrothal?" Cregan went to attack her left side, but Aerea was smart enough to sense it and block it with her sword. "Why wouldn't I? I wish to leave this place and what other way except for to marry someone."

Aerea ducked underneath Cregan's hand as he raise his sword to attack her. She went for his legs but Cregan quickly stepped back, letting his sword touch hers in mocking.

"Why not someone else?" Cregan stepped back, taking a deep breath. He had surely not anticipated this sort of fight from a princess of the realm. "Why marry someone you don't know?" Aerea huffed, her breath uneven.

"Why not your brother?" Cregan moved his sword and tried to land an attack on Aerea's left leg, succeeding partially as he caught her off guard by his question. Aerea stepped back to avoid the lord's sword but she stumbled back, falling on the ground.

"Not him. At no cost," Aerea whimpered, shaking her head as she looked up. Cregan could spot the faint fear in her deep and beautiful eyes. Her face neutralizing from her usual smiling face.

"What shall I get in return?" Cregan asked, offering the dragon princess a hand to help her stand up. "Whatsoever you wish for, my lord," Aerea said, letting her small hand slip into his larger ones.

"I will let you know when the times come then, princess."

[sleepparalysisdemon112]

Passions not known

A/n not much, just a drabble I just thought of, (pretty unrealistic) REQUESTS OPEN

Warnings: rough Aemond, smut, fluff

You were the hidden princess, you were seen merely as a myth

You were a bastard of a stark king and sent to a tower in between the cliffs of Westeros to live out the rest of your days being taken care of by maids and servants.

He had found you one day, exploring the cliffs and ridges of Westeros, when he found your castle 

From then, you understood what your storybooks spoke of

He would come once a month, and it was always the same

Hands over bodies searching for warmth, skin on skin

He would whisper lewd words in your ear letting out all of his built-up emotion on the princess unknown

He would tell you how he was going to give you so many of his children the castle would be swarmed, it was all a heat-of-the-moment endeavor but you fueled off it, it kept you alive 

He would pleasure you immensely, the only happiness you had 

You had maids, you had servants, and staff, but he was what kept you together

He wasn’t afraid of judgment in front of you, even if the two of you were not intertwined, he showed his admiration in other ways, you knew all of his secrets 

He loved the feeling of having something no one else could, no one else would ever know about, and yet he wanted you with him every step he took in the castle

He wanted to take the throne and fuck you there where ever he pleased

And if he couldn’t do that, he would here

Through a tangle of passionate kisses, and bite marks covering your shoulders, he was rough, he was passion. 

“My little secret, my perfect girl,” he would whisper in-between heavy thrusts, “If I could, I would bring you to the castle, I would make you my queen and have my brother kiss the ground you walked on,” 

He was never always nice, but you liked it. You liked knowing you were a form of release for him.

And after he was done, and you were exhausted, he would hold you, he would warm you and pull your long hair back just as his was, he would let you see his sapphire eye, and tell you all of his burdens. 

[minami97]

I "tried" making a visual for the Modern X Hanahaki AU Aemond fic i might be working on. Apologies if it's not up to standard, I'm only good with words. 🥲

Some Info about the fic

Working Title: The Thorns of Love (Will Change)

Genre: Modern AU, Hanahaki AU, Angst

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader , ??? x Reader

Publication: Circa 2023 (possibly Summer / Fall)

Fic Summary

Love can be kind, generous and unconditional. But it can also be cruel and painful if not reciprocated. Y/n learned this the hard way when she fell in love with her childhood friend, who doesn't return her affection and is the cause of her suffering.

[mesillusionssousecstasy]

House of the dragon 2x07 : Review

Come on "The Dragon came to him". It's no realistic. That cannot be the only explanation.

What's happening between Lord Jasper and Lord Larys? They don't want to deliver the news to Aemond.

What's happening with Jace?

More views of Harrenhal.

Lord Oscar Tully is good, very good.

What's happening with Daemon again?

Again the black goat? in Harrenhal. It cannot be a coincidence.

Again Daemon's having dreams.

OMG Aegon is so badly hurt. He looks like Viserys a lot.

Is Aegon wearing Helaena's tunic? The one she was embroidering.

Again the futur and little Kings.

Strange story with Rhaena. Is she supposed to be Neddles.

Interesting conversation between Jace and Rhaenyra.

Hugh is the brother of Viserys and Daemon? WTF. His daughter is dead.

Now, it's so easy to leave King's lading?

Alicent's path on going mad? Is Alicent la dame du Lac (like in Arthur and the knight of the round table.

Can you imagine all the bastards the Targayen have fathered.

I love the caretakers of Dragonstone saying "Dragon are the last magic of old Valyria in this sad world." It's very important.

I love Rhaenyra's new gown dress.

Interesting Rhaenyra can control Vermithor? She can call him.

She can talk to other dragons?

Vermithor likes them cooked. hahah.

It's savage to claim a dragon.

Poor Silverwings.

Vhagar is a old dinosaur.

Aemond can almost not control Vhagar.

Finally, the episode was very slow.

What happened to Ser Alfred Broome? He hasn't come to Harrenhal yet?

[misguidedasgardian]

hello! hope your day was well and the watching of the season finale was fun.

here is my rant for this episode lol. i always look forward to your commentary!!

> to start: not jace acting as if ulf and hugh were just regular everyday bastards like no bud, they are targaryen bastards (or at least i think ulf is, hugh confirmed he is). like had their moms been married and had them, they'd have a high claim than both him and his mom. and the projecting is crazy, like baela said, get it together and stand by your mom bro, you have uno jobs.

> daemon is literally a crazy man, like crazier than me on a normal everyday average day.

> also, if we went based on how the succession should've gone, plenty of people have a high claim to the throne like rhaenyra did (baela/rhaena through rhaenys). like many people have the means to challenge her, they just dont have the energy (thanks jaehaerys for not liking women??)

> aemond i swear is a woman beater. like if he is willing to lay a hand upon his sister...imagine if he had a wife and the way he talks down to his mom and helaena is oooo, i'd have him smacked silly. like im so glad alicent interceded for helaena because ... he just lost his damn mind.

> alicent is lowkey wishing she had to put up with aegon at this point (everyone is wishing the same lol)

> gwayne clocking cole was gold and criston cole's smartest line by far was something along the lines of: "perhaps all men are corrupt and perhaps honor blows away like mist in the morning." it kind of goes hand in hand with the quote from game of thrones that's something like "there's a beast in every man and he stirs when a sword is put in his face."

> didn't know we were wrestling in mud today and Tyland is as confused as me every episode.

> the acting kills me every time like no offense because i know i couldn't do better, but like the first episode of game of thrones had better acting like its good in this show but not the best like i swear sometimes they talk like robots or like theyre explaining the plot to us (which alicent did for no reason towards the end like just be evil to be evil. women can be evil too they don't always have to be kind and submissive.)

> these characters have become so unlikeable that i have to dig deep to find ones i like.

> ulf has no table manners and not everyone mentioning they aren't of noble birth but like technically, they are like they're as much royal as jace the only difference is his mom kept him and his grandfather allowed it so he should count his blessings.

> alys is carrying and she makes daemon more likeable and i rather watch them and their friendship than daemon and rhaenyra's weird codependency daddy issue relationship (they are making me hate targcest. matter of fact, all the targayens are making me hate everything about them.)

> helaena gets my cheers because she told aemond who was boss and stuck it to him and proved she has a voice and just chooses when to use it. like im betting she wishes aegon was better because at least he was moldable unlike aemond like you could manipulate aegon to do what you wanted. aemond is a lose cannon that needs to be put out.

> corlys without rhaenys is making me ill because he doesnt care that he abandoned his kids, alyn and addam to start a whole new family and left them to fend for themselves as kids like finish what you started. im sick of seeing bastards left and right and watching their families move on without them like finish what yous started if you can!!

> rhaena's safari quest is like watching an ad for something like if i see her quest again, i might cry.

> season 2= story with no plot

sorry for the essay friend, i feel bad every time you respond to it because its so long, but hey, its the last episode so the rants can become shorter now and less time consuming!!

p.s> otto being locked in a tower when everyone is trying to reach him is so funny.

It's fine, I feel like we all got so much to say, we are so confused, angry, sad, Idk what I'm feeling anymore

>You know what? I'm with Jace on this. Rhaenyra said it herself "they think we are closer to gods than to men, but they say that because of our dragons, without them we are like everyone else", then let's go to Jace, who realises he is a bastards on a very early age, think about the fact that the only way to comfort him, is Rhaenyra assuring him that "you are a Targaryen, that's all that matters", and the only "legitimization" he had was his blood, the fact that he (a bastard) could ride Dragons THAT ONE WAS HATCHED TO HIM ON HIS CRIB, then a war breaks out because of the usurpation, which one of its many "justifications", is that Rhenyra "has no true heirs", and his bastarcy had been called out MANY TIMES BY MANY IMPORTANT PEOPLE, and then.... AND THEN HE SEES THIS "COLLECTION" of bastards like him who can also ride dragons? So yeah, I'd be bitter too, and super insecure, because bastards get KILLED in this world, but I also see your point, but the fact that two of them had the white hair that he does not? dang

>Daemon... yesh, whatever makes you sleep at night dude, like, if you needed an Ayahuasca trip to come to the realisation that you need to support your wife... go for it my dude jejeje,whatever ticklled your fancy JAJAJA

>Yeah but that fizzles because of Viserys was made king... so... no point on resurfacing Rhaenys' claim

>I said it before... they DESTROYED their character, I thought his family was going to be what makes him a great villain, an antagonist even, I DO IT FOR MY FAMILY FOR MY MOTHER WHO DEFENDED ME AND MY SISTER WHO IS AN INNOCENT, why couldn't they keep that in? like in S1E9? it makes it much more attractive, and powerful AND LIKEABLE. I LIKED HIM IN SEASON ONE! i found him such an interesting character! where that was left, idk.

>Alicent is just... incoherent, madder then tripping Daemon

>I found that scene useless and boring, and??? like... why? why there? it was like, they filmed it, they made Criston say some "good" lines (?) and then they didn't know where to put the scene so they just threw it somewhere not to waste it? Why he is recriminating him about fucking his sister (IN FRONT OF EVERYONE? DUMB C*NT) NOW? now after like four chapters since we know him? (and he found out) no sense

>Like I said, they cut out two chapters, so m guess is that it was part of something THAT MADE MORE FUCKING SENSE? hahaha I found it weirdly likeable (more at the end)

>I have nothing to say about the actors actually, they are fine to watch I guess, they are victims on this

>They have nobody sacred, they destroyed Alicent, BUTCHERED Aemond, (because despite what TG has to say... TEAM GREENS ARE THE VILLAINS DUDE (in the books), and they manage in season one to actually have fans that are TG!!! and people who enjoyed their characters!!! I could get behind cult Alicent, because she had nothing else so she turned to the gods, so, I guess that's fine BUT ITS NOT FINE BECAUSE IT WAS FOR NOTHING???

They made TB boring and indecisive, butchering them too?? BORING, IDK, if I was Rhaenyra, Alicent would have been DEAD to me the second I realized what happened... specially after she tortured me, diminished me, bullied me, and put my BABIES in risk for all those years... BUT SHE IS WORTH A LIFE-RISKING TRIP FOR? the septa scene was just straight out of a PARODY (calling it fanfiction is an insult to us) and jsut not speak about this last encounter (GO NYRA, MOCK HER, SCOFF AT HER), but what the writters did to them both, is a crime punished by the gods

>Ulf, I don't even want to talk about that clown, I hate him, but Nyra c'mon, what did you expect?

>I have little thoughts about Alys... I really thought they were going to take her character in a complete different direction, Idk how to feel about her, I like that she could be like a "grey" character, like a Loki of some sorts, like "the end justifies the means", yes I'm going to mentally torture you for weeks, only to make you come to the realisation that you must protect and fight for your wife, like, thanks I guess? jejejeje I'm intrigued of what are they going to do with Aemond and Alys... those trips are going to be... DIABOLICAL hahahaha

>Yes I agree, if they had placed ONE scene with Helaena visiting Aegon... she would have been my top three favorite characters in the season, definitely, what Phia has done with her character (WITH SO LITTLE) makes her worthy of a FUCKING OSCAR, and GRRM said it himself, she is one of the characters who he liked more portrayed then in his own writting so, yeah, PUT HIM ON HIS PLACEEEEE, she was like "fuck around and find outttt" hahah

>Yeah, I thought Corlys was going to pull trough this as a decent man, but what he had done and will do? motherfucker, that's all I have to say, you did not deserve Rhaenys, nor those kids, and his house will collapse in front of hiseyes. (I hope they give Addam the place of his brother in the story taking the lead on House Velaryon) Corlys (like Otto) deserve everything that's coming their way, I wrote it on HOTW, he and Otto sank their teeth into a Targaryen of their choice, and they ripped them apart.

>Yeah, Daemon in Harrenhal all over again, It doesn't help that I don't like her at all, look, I'm not the prettiest doll in the store, but I don't like to "watch her", and thinking about what will happen in the Essos crossing, adding to the fact that she will claim a dragon, infuriates me and hasn't even happened yet, she is behaving like a spoiled brat and just... she bores me, Daemon I get it... (FOR SOCIAL REASONS I'M KIDDING), Baela is hanging by a thread, they must give her something to do besides having scenes with Jace. I enjoyed her scene in moondancer, but like the Rhaenys' scene... was for shock value, and not that important to the plot...

>This was all over the place, I just keep writing and writing this and something else always comes up

You know what? i was so fucking angry, about to go to bed angry, and this actually helped me to "put my idead in order", I really hope you can read this noonie! really, I was all over the place, and this somehow soothed me.

HAHAHA Otto! where is he? can't imagine where... he said he was going to the Tyrells? so I don't know who he could have crossed on his way there since they send Tyland to Essos (in the leaks they say it was gonna be him dealing with the triarchy). I enjoyed that part, they gave the triarchy faces, and that gives them a depth that... I weirdly liked.

MUAHAHA

[achaoticeternal]

he has beautiful bones | a.t

AEMOND TARGARYEN x FEM!STARK!READER

summary: after your quarrels with alicent and aemond, you and aemond must come to terms with his actions.  word count: 2.3k warnings: internalized misogyny a/n: i love this little war criminal and i don’t know whether to fix him or join him in his madness - but this is a fix him fic lol 

part one | all that he sees

Three full suns had risen and set since you last lay with Aemond in your room, much less spoke with him. Rather than accompanying your husband where ever he be in the walls of the Red Keep, you took up the company of youthful noble ladies and your lady-in-waiting. And while you laughed and soaked in their kind company, the ache in your heart remained. 

You had only seen Aemond, even Alicent, in passing through halls and gardens. Alicent would keep an eye fixated on you during the brief encounters, but you paid no mind to her as you passed by. You had nothing good or kind to say to the woman, so it was better that you keep your mouth shut. When Aemond would catch a glance of you, his expression became slightly hopeful, only to fall as you brushed past him. Instead of attending dinner, you took them in your maiden chamber within the presence of your lady-in-waiting and personal guards. 

There was no doubt in your mind that Alicent had plagued your husband's mind with terrible thoughts and words about you and your behaviors. A small part of you hoped that he would retaliate against the unkind words, but you truly expected him to silently accept her words or even laugh along. Cruel thoughts...

You had taken to a daily habit of checking in with the maesters to see if words had come and go from your brother, Cregan. At first, it shocked you to hear that there was no correspondence from either side. Only one response from the Greens, requesting time to deliberate while a swarm of Lords from the Southern region congregated at the Red Keep. There was some relief on your part that Aemond had not just simply acted on his mother’s wishes... yet. 

Currently, you were to be found in the grand library of the Red Keep. There was a pile of books on one of the desks closest to you; organized by records, stories, and histories. During your courtship with Aemond, he would often read you the histories of the Targaryen line and even the tales of Old Valyria. He thought it important that you knew and understood the family you would be marrying into. Admittedly, it was a kind gesture and a privilege that very few people who had married a Targaryen had ever received. 

The love both of you had for your separate heritages was what helped to plant the seed of love in your marriage. While he taught you small and loving phrases in High Valyrian, you would tell him of the fables that your parents told you as a little girl. Stories of the children of the forest and the first men in exchange for the history of Valyria before the Doom. Such a small act of love was what truly made you, a Northern lady, feel welcome in the Southern kingdoms.

In your searches for the next book you would be mulling over for the next day or so, you came across a children’s book with stories of the Sigils of each house and how they came to be. The illustrations were silly and you even giggled at the depictions of the Mormont bear and Greyjoy kraken. You flipped through the pages, continuing your amusements until the wolf of your own house came into view. Ironically, the pages for Stark and Targaryen were next to each other in the section of the great houses. You read over both pages...

House Stark - the Direwolf: a house of ice and honor

a man of the north is an honorable man as there ever was he is strong he is fierce he does what is best, right, and good

House Targaryen - the Three-Head Dragon a house of fire and blood

a man of the dragon with fire in his veins he is steadfast he is regal he does what is best for the house

Your forefinger traced over the words as you compared the descriptions of both houses to the men you honored most in your life - your brother and your husband. But then you dismissed such comparisons and thought of yourself - how you embodied such traits of both houses. With a firm nod, you closed the book and turned on your heels... you knew what to say to your husband now.

As if divine timing was on your side, one of Aemond’s personal King’s Guard entered the library and announced himself. 

“My lady, Prince Aemond requests your presence.”

“Thank you, ser,” You spoke with a curt nod as you began to exit the library, “And it would do you and others good to address me by my rightful title — Princess.”

The guards escorted you through the halls of the Red Keep until you came upon the familiar oak doors of your marriage chambers. As you approached, you waved the guards off to dismiss them and knocked at the great doors. There was a pause, and then Aemond opened the door.

Your husband, though still stoic and tall in posture, looked utterly exhausted. One might even conclude that he had barely slept since you were last properly at his bedside. This surprised you - as Aemond rarely showed any emotions outside of his amusements, teasing, and eagerness in training. His shoulders were even slightly slumped as his good eye met your gaze.

“My wife,” His tone was far softer than when you had last spoken with each other. His eye then trailed to the outskirts of the door, “Where are the guards?”

“I dismissed them,” You spoke bluntly, “We are speaking as man and wife, are we not? What reason do they have to be posted outside your door?”

There was no reason. Both you and Aemond knew that. He simply nodded his head, but there was a pause hanging in the air. It did not release until you broke it yourself. 

“May I come in? Or will be speaking at each other through opposite sides of the door?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side. 

Aemond’s eye trailed over your body before he fully opened the door and stepped out of your way. You could now fully step into the chambers and see what a disheveled mess it had become. 

“Have the attendants not been coming in? It looks a full mess in here. They-”

Aemond quickly cut you off, “No one has been in these chambers except myself since you took the bed in your maiden chambers.”

There was another long silence. Your eyes flickered across the room and looked anywhere but at Aemond.

“Why?”

“Because even if you left my side in anger, I did not want to see you erased from our marriage chambers,” Aemond spoke softly, truthfully. His stature was wavering, you could tell that he wanted to grab your hand but fought against his touch-starved desire, “My mother tried to send in maid after maid to clean and tidy, but I sent them all away. I would not have her commands pull you from me - even in the smallest of details like your soft scent upon the bed pillows.”

Your brows furrowed, not in hurt, but more in surprise at his words. Your heartbeat picked up with each honest word. Though he was never an overly affectionate husband, especially before others, he did have his own special way of always taking your breath away.

“Aemond...” You breathed out...

You shook your head, knowing that you wouldn’t betray yourself by returning to his arms with just a few kind words.

“I’m glad to hear that you dismissed Alicent’s requests, but why not have avoided any of this?” You ask him with a twinge of hurt in your voice, “Why not defend me to her in the first place?”

Aaemond thought for a moment about your question. He thought over the consequences of his lack of action and how throughout his life, he rarely stood up to or disagreed with his mother. It weighed heavily in his heart - the comparisons he made between his mother and his wife. 

When he thought of Alicent, he saw a woman who fought for her children. A woman who deeply loved him and cared for him when he lost his eye. A woman who admittedly helped to build him into a far better Prince than his elder brother. A woman who did her best to give him what he desired.

When he thought of his lady-wife, he saw a woman who seemed a direct foil of who young Aemond imagined he would marry. You were an engaging and intelligent young woman. You never wanted to simply bear the heirs of the Dragon Prince, but rather love him in the ways his family could never. You had taken the parts of himself that he hated or others had damaged and loved them.

"I am sincere in my apologies, my love." Aemond began, "I have... neglected my duties to you; made you feel undermined, underappreciated; and bit my tongue when I should have defended you."

He began to slowly approach you. As he came closer and closer, he reached out his hands to gently take one of your own between his palms. His gaze focus on your hand, more specifically the golden wedding band, as he collected his thought to continue his apology.

"I love my mother dearly — but I love you more..."

"When I was growing up, my father dismissed all of his children except for  Rhaenyra, so I depended on my mother who was fighting her own battles. Aegon was... he is just Aegon, and Helaena had to process her own life. I did not feel so open to cherish or love anyone until you came into my life," he raised your hand to his lips and pressed a tender kiss to your knuckles. 

"I should have corrected Alicent instead of allowing her to brush you off. Your council is something that I deeply cherish and require with this matter. Please, join me tonight at the meeting of the small council so that we can finally provide an answer to Cregan."

 A smile twitched at your lips with each word. You could feel the sincerity in each word and tell how much thought he had put into such. This was the man whose hand you had accepted in marriage. With his lingering question, you answered with a grateful smile, "Thank you, Aemond. I would love to be at your side tonight, and to return to bed with you after."

Aemond chuckled and fully pulled your frame against his chest, "Good," he whispered. He pulled you into a soft kiss, glad to have you back in his arms.

A chair had been drawn up next to Aemond's seat at his orders long before the pair of you arrived at the meeting. As a couple, you both were the last to arrive before the top of the hour. You had other catching up to do outside of apologies...

 Once you entered the room, a small gasp could be heard — obviously from Alicent. The other Lords of the table held similar shock in their eyes but did not reveal their opinion with their words or faces. Arm in arm with Aemond, you approached your seats. Aemond pulled out your chair from the table like a gentleman and you stood in front of it. All members were standing, awaiting the arrival of King Aegon. 

Your eyes shifted about the room, looking from Lord to Lord. Based on their expression, you knew Aemond had a look on his face, daring them to say something.

"It is good to see you back by your husband's size, my lady." Alicent finally broke the silence, "But may I ask why you are present?"

As you reached for your chalice of wine and sipped from it, Aemond answered his mother's questions, "My wife is originally a lady of the North and Lord Cregan is her brother. She is an excellent resource for us in this current predicament. She is here to provide us with useful insight which we may be unaware of."

Alicent did her best to maintain a composed smile as her eyes flickered between Aemond and you, "Interesting..."

As you returned your chalice to the table, Alicent quite noticeably cleared her throat, "My lady..."

"The Prince is smart to bring in your assistance for this meeting. I do encourage you not to make many interruptions as there is much to discuss this evening. In fact, your advice should only be to your husband and not the council, my lady."

The Queen mother seemed content with her backhanded words as she finished with a nod. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Aemond's knuckles go white as he clenched his hand into a fist. Though you appreciated his refusal to back down, you rested your hand softly atop his fist, insinuating that you would handle her words.

"My Queen, it is an honor to join the small council this evening and provide my insight where it is needed," You spoke with a smirk, "but I must say - much as I respect and even admire all the hard work you've poured into the ears of these fine Lords, I expect that you acknowledge my words as well. For as you, I believe it would be appropriate for you to reciprocate the respect that you expect of me."

"My lady—" She attempted to interject. 

"My Queen, I wish for you to address me with my proper title — Princess..." You stopped her with a smirk.

All eyes were on you in shock that you had corrected the queen. However, your eyes glanced over to Aemond for a moment to see him smirking, clearly proud. 

Before another word could be said, King Aegon finally entered and the meeting finally began. As you took your seat, you felt Aemond's hand reach under the table to grab your own. He squeezed it affectionately and kept it there the entirety of the night.

|| thank you for all the wonderful comments on part 1 

|| i’ve tagged below those [the ones i could] who commented to part one

@violet2507 @malfoytargaryen @melsunshine​ @lol-im-done​ @thenovelcarnival​ @xoxo-pepprmnts​ @sl-ut​ @hoziersfairy​ @merovingianprincess​

[justanoasisimagines]

Kissing their scars Aemond Targaryen

Hey my lovelies, back with another headcanon! My requests are open for everything except fics. You can find my request guidelines pinned to the top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

❀Aemond has various scars all over his body. Some from training and practicing, some from the odd bump and scrap. However, the one on his face is the worst of all.

❀Aemond enjoys having you kiss his scars. It's comforting to feel your lips cascade over his body. It's a private and intimate moment between the two. He'd never experienced such affection from another individual before.

❀Aemond is proud to show you his scars over his body. They act as a reminder of everything he's accomplished. How hard he's worked to get where he is. To become the weapon he is.

❀Aemond is however reluctant when it comes to his eye. It serves as a reminder of how Lucerys was never punished for his actions. As well as a reminder of a time when Aemond felt the most weak.

❀Aemond doesn't like you going near his eye in the beginning, he's terrified of you being repulsed by him. He doesn't want to scare you off or make you uncomfortable. He's worried you'll think he's weak.

❀It takes trust for Aemond to eventually allow you to kiss his scar. When he does, he's not ready for the impact that it holds over him.

❀Aemond feels what it's like to be loved for the first time. To have someone love him without any conditions. You're not scared or disgusted by it. It's just another part of him that you get to love and be protective over.

❀It's a new kind of intmacy Aemond isn't used to. You've kissed his other scars before and he enjoys the touch but this is monumental. This means something. The first time you kiss his eye, Aemond releases a single tear. He's overcome with emotion. He doesn't know how to react, but he holds onto you tightly. Enjoying the touch between you, no words are exchanged.

[tenseoyong]

I am putting my ass in the line here to go on and say that aemond gives the best hugs.

without a doubt

aemond isn’t the most physically affectionate person, that much is known. getting a gentle hand on the arm is the most extreme he’ll tend to go for.

an aemond hug is a rarity—and it is treasured.

the blood of the dragon flows through aemond—and he burns hotter than any fire man could make. his embrace could fight off frost bite if he’d be kind enough to offer it.

he’d hold you as if he was single handedly protecting you from the entire world—pressing you tightly to his front. one arm wrapped around your lower back to hold you to him firmly while the other tenderly holds the back of your head, fingers fanned out to gently stroke your hair as he tucks you under his chin.

and when he finally releases you, he places the softest, barely felt kiss to your forehead.

i need an aemond hug or ill combust

[ masterlist ] [ requests ]

ask to be tagged~

[letsasoiaftogether]

AEMOND TARGARYEN

(For Anon who wanted something doing with Aemond “One Eye” Targaryen and the daughter to Rhaenyra Targaryen - FINALLY I got to do something with the Dance of the Dragons. CAUSE LIKE I’ve been wanting to write more for the history of House Targaryen for YEARS! :D)

IMAGINE....you’re the daughter to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the niece to Aemond “One Eyed” Targaryen, and you love your Uncle.

Word Count: 732

“Aemond...we’re at war! We’re on opposite sides! You want my mother dead just as much as she wants you dead!” You couldn’t help but cry out to him the moment the two of you had slipped off your respective dragons and crashed into each other’s arms.

You were in a secluded piece of land in the Stormlands, not far off from Dorne. It had been your place, yours and Aemond’s, since the two of you were old enough to ride away from King’s Landing and Dragonstone without the company of others. It was a bad idea for the both of you; all it would take was someone from either side of the war discovering where you had gone and following you. Your mother or step-father could attack Aemond while he wasn’t looking, or King Aegon could have you attacked while you were focused on your lover (and Uncle). It was such a stupid idea, but you hadn’t hesitated when you had received that secret letter in the same manner you had been receiving letters from your mother’s younger brother for going on five years. You could never deny Aemond One-Eye.

“Please, we can end this conflict. You and I...we can find a way. I know we can!” you added, your nails digging into the sleeve of Aemond’s shirt, stopped from scratching his skin by the chain mail that lied beneath the fancy fabric. 

Aemond smiled, sadly, and cupped your face. Leaning down to capture your lips, he held you close and kissed you so sweetly for several long moments before he pulled back and closed his eyes. His forehead resting on yours. His hands rested loosely on your hips. “There is no ending it. Rhaenyra and Aegon both have a claim, and both will fight until the other is dead. Besides…” 

He didn't continue, but you didn’t need him to.

There had been too much death. There had been too many insults and too much bad blood for their family to back down and sue for peace now.

“Daemon has called you to Harrenhal…” You barely managed to say as tears slipped down your cheeks. Your Step-Father (and great Uncle) was a monster in the eyes of many; he was brutal, he didn’t shy away from violence. He would do whatever was necessary to bring about your mother’s desires. “You don't have to go, Aemond. You can ignore him. Fight another day.” You pleaded, clutching his hands as if that alone would keep him there with you.

That arrogant smile that so many of House Targaryen possessed slowly tugged onto Aemond’s lips as he opened his one eye and took a step back. “Y/n,” he murmured as he unhooked the chain he had worn around his neck for as long as you could remember. “You are the dragon fire in my lungs. As much as I support my brother’s claim to my Father’s throne, I wish this war had never touched your beautiful face.” swiftly, he slipped the chain around your neck and sighed, “A dragon never truly dies. We have the fires of eternity awaiting for us in the beyond. Shall I die this day, know we will be together again soon.”

“Aemond.” you sobbed as he captured your lips with his own once more, this time desperate as the two of you clung to each other for what (unknown to the two of you) would be the very last time. “I love you. Please don't leave me alone in this world.”

“I will always be with you.”

Aemond the Kinslayer, Aemond One-Eyed, Aemond Targayen. Some saw him as rash, and he was most certainly dangerous with a blade despite only having one eye. He was quick to temper more often than not and he was slow to forgive. But he had always been gentle with you, always adoring of you and showering you with love and gifts that was rarely seen from him. 

Not many in history would remember him, but that night as you received news about his death you were comforted with the fact that you would remember him, and the life the Prince had unknowingly left inside of you would know the man his father of - would know how much Prince Aemond loved his family. And that he died trying to bring some sort of peace back to the realm and to House Targaryen. 

[achaoticeternal]

i found this tiktok of aemond targaryen doing mr. darcy’s proposal monologue and it has me yearning

[achaoticeternal]

[justanoasisimagines]

Blurb (1)

Hey my lovelies, welcome to my heroes and villian event to celebrate Halloween! All month I'll be posting for a Hero and a Villian every single day! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!

Summary; Aemond and you play a game of hide and seek! Warnings; The ending is slightly suggestive but nothing explicit.

"Come out love. You can't hide from me." You planted yourself firmly against the Oaktree. A hand pressed against your mouth, A branch snaps in the distance. You turned your head searching for a new location to hide. The attempt was futile, eventually, Aemond would find you. Yet it was the thrill of the anticipation knowing he'd catch you. It was all about the chase. It was a question of when. With a quickened pace, you attempted to sneak through the woods like a mouse. Light on your feet scurrying away from the unbeatable prey. "You should give up now Aemond taunted, yet you were determined not to be caught out so soon. Changing your direction, you began to zig-zag changing your direction. If Aemond were to catch you, you refused to make it easy, In a haste decision, you found a nearby tree, thick and wide appearing safe enough to climb. You grabbed hold of the branches, pulling yourself up and climbing as high as you could. You settled on a branch sturdy enough to perch yourself. Now all you had to do was wait. "You waited for some time until you saw Aemond sauntering underneath you, his head turning left and right, Once more you placed your hand over your mouth, this time to muffle your laughter. Perhaps you'd finally outsmarted Aemond. A branch snapped underneath you as if the gods decided to curse you once more. Would they ever allow you to win? Aemond snapped his head up seeing you sitting above him. A smile curled upon his lips. "Well done my love. Yet it appears I have found you." With slumped shoulders, you climbed down. The moment you were close enough Aemond lifted you into his arms. "Do not worry, I suspect my reward will be pleasurable for the both of us."